Curiosity or?
by TheAnonymousDeviant
Summary: Tessa's normalcy is disrupted when her father rushes into her life and back out, throwing her into a strange position of being a witness to a creature others call a Parasite. It would seem bad fortune has fallen upon the girl who survived the worst one of them all.
1. Chapter 1

She contemplated how long mornings always seem after a restless night of sleep; lying in bed in wait of gathering the motivation to rise and greet the day. There's no telling if being motionless like so is better than getting up, her mind is undecided on the matter and the only thing she can do is persuade herself to find out. It's another little game, another little test to run; starting as a bittersweet joke that always ended in exhaustion.

This is just another repetitive day for Tessa Celant.

The small home she lives in is quaint enough; she was unsure of how long she would be staying after moving from America a few years back, now she's just fond of the place she has made her own. Blood, sweat and tears went into this property – on top of money, any studying she had hoped to do was demolished and in the process of being rebuilt after her funds took a hit. The moment she began building them up dear old dad decided to pay her visit, one that lasted longer than she would have liked – just seeing his daughter, he had said, before she knew it he was living there. A discussion never occurred regarding it; he slithered into her life as easily as he did out of it two weeks back.

That's not the reason behind her lack of motivation. Tessa knew her mental state isn't the greatest though she tried hard to put effort into the smallest of things. It's a work in progress and dad didn't make it any better for her with his abrupt decision to crash at her place.

It's on the way back home that night, groceries in hand, that she decided to try something new tomorrow. A smile formed, a consensus reached – all before she's jumped but a couple of suits and held at gunpoint.

Perhaps the universe said, _"Why wait until tomorrow? Why wait at all?"_

There's a sack over her head, hands bound behind her back as she is left off balance in a quickly moving van. Words are being said but none of them make any sense to her. Her mind is overtaken with a barrage of thoughts that she cannot discern whether to be useful or not. Overwhelmed by the sudden danger and the fatigue from a long day of simply existing, the young woman has realized she has no idea how she is to respond to all of this – nor can she predict how she will when confronted with why she has been taken. Tessa had hoped to leave violence behind in America, she is also doubtful against this many people she could do much other than getting herself shot. Yet there's no crying, no begging, no nothing leaving her mouth but the gasps of discomfort and disbelief about the situation as a whole.

She must be the quietest captive they've ever had given the way they laughed.

It's difficult to say how long she has been within their custody for; time is hard to measure when your senses are cut off from the usual flow of information. Tessa cannot figure out whether it has been ten minutes or three hours before she's being yanked out of the car and shoved across tile floors that seem to make her shoes stick now and then.

Walking. She is walking and yet she doesn't feel as though she is; it's as though another had replaced her and is moving this body for her – she is but a passenger filled with worry about reaching her destination. Knowing she would come to find out the purpose of being kidnapped made her uneasy; she doesn't know how she will react and the idea of knowing is as dreadful as not.

That is what races through her mind when they halt her on a floor that's different from the rest. The stench of the hall she had been escorted through has come to be something richer; smoke, both of cigarettes and cigars – the scent of cologne strong as the noise that once filled the room softened momentarily into silence.

The sack is removed non-too-gently and her eyes are forced to adjust; there are more suits, unfamiliar faces both grinning and grimacing in her direction. Before her a man sitting behind a desk as though it is a wall to shield the world of his arrogance. Displeasure is what surfaced first; she wants to fight despite not wanting to fight at all. Perhaps that's just because she's an angry person, or maybe it's something more primitive. Words are not said, call her a stubborn bitch but as her senses started to return she in turn does as well. This response seemed to amuse the man who flaunted his success with expensive yet useless material objects.

"Miss Celant, would you like to take a seat?" He broke the silence first seeing how she won't play victim properly. A chair is not something she wanted to be strapped down to in a room full of men and so she declined it with a simple shake of her head. "Very well, onto the matter at hand then: Do you know where your father is?"

There it is. The reason she was snatched off the street and thrust into a potentially hostile environment; because fucking dad can't keep out of trouble in America and so he brought it overseas to the peace she had made for herself. This was it, the reason he had disappeared must be what led her to being in this predicament. She is upset for multiple reasons and yet wants no knowledge of what he did to piss them off; so utterly done and ever wanting to return home to that bed of hers.

This man that raised her poorly when her mother passed, the man she couldn't rely on even as a child that somehow managed to weasel second chances (and then third and fourth) out of her was the reason her life was likely on the line. It's at this moment she wondered why she ever gave him those chances, and then followed up that thought with why she is even thinking about that now. It won't do her any good when her anger is rising to a boil inside.

"I know this must be very shocking for you. I'm sorry-"

"Don't lie to me." Tessa cut in as her voice returned before she is ready for it. Irritation is easy to read on his face; her father reacted the same when she called him out on his bullshit. "Dad and I aren't close, he comes around when it's convenient for him no matter how much I protest. He doesn't care. Dad up and disappeared maybe two weeks back now? I couldn't tell you the exact date cause I've just been enjoying the peace that returned to my home. I'm the last person who would be in the know."

It's not the answer he wanted but it's spoken so bluntly, with such sincerity in her disgust that he withholds from immediately lashing her for interrupting him to begin with. The only proof he has to go by are the lack of photographs in her apartment, barren of any family or friends and instead replaced with artwork to cover up the holes.

There's no way he could just let her walk even if he did believe her. Too much effort has been put in to find the man that owed him money; this kid is the only collateral he has to repay the debt, though he can't say he's all too pleased about it. Nor is she, despite being unaware of his thoughts. On top of which he can't play nice when she's burning hot, that flame has to be smothered – respect must be maintained by his men and she could do with learning some as well.

"Are you sure that's the answer you want to go with?" He asked her. It's one last try before he is to begin testing how true her statement is. No doubt she can see some of his boys are itching to crack down on her, some get off too much on laying a fist on a woman but that's the nature of the business tonight. Nothing much can be done to avoid it when she has readily given her answer and is unmoved to provide anything else.

Debts must be paid. If her father won't come to her aid she'll just have to pay up in his stead.

"It's the only answer I have to give." Tessa replied with a sinking feeling as to what was to come when fingers tightly curled over her shoulder.

By the third punch she's finally crying – it's almost a relief.

* * *

 _New short story. Not quite sure where it is to go. I've been rereading this manga, as it's one of my favorites and I suppose it triggered some strange dream I had - which this story is a result of. I'm unsure what to expect outside of the dream bits but feel free to leave comments if you think of anything - I may further the story past the point it ended in the dream._

 _Excuse any grammar errors. As per usual my writing on here comes very late at night/early in the morning, in which I become too bitter to do much editing._

 _As usual: I do not own Parasyte (Kiseijuu) nor profit from this. I only own the OC._


	2. Chapter 2

They left her in a room that seemed to be used more for storage than anything else. The worn sofa was clearly used many times over for people in a situation similar to her own; the moment she regained her senses she crawled off the couch and onto the cold tile floor. Her hands felt weak as she splayed out her fingers and gathered her strength from the nap she had been forced to take. The pain that radiated throughout her body caused her arms to falter but it was quickly followed with a controlled exhale as she steadied herself; demanded her body be of use lest she fall victim to further abuse. Adrenaline woke her up and helped her numb away the pain enough for her to focus on the situation at hand... which was bad. What she needed to do was get out before they made an example out of her for her (uncaring) father to see.

Like hell she'd be blamed for his transgressions. She was **done**.

Seated on her hands and knees she looked around the room; a small table with one leg shorter than the rest sat crookedly with two chairs beside it across from her, to her right were some boxes stacked and to her left was the door with some miscellaneous supplies against the wall nearby it. Surely she could conjure up a weapon if need be out of the mop, it wasn't as blunt as a baseball bat but manageable if necessary. Looking down across the floor she didn't see any drains and the ceiling had no vents, so surely there had to be one on the wall somewhere - and with luck it wouldn't be something terribly small.

Tessa's gaze shifted towards the boxes, they weren't directly pressed against the wall and that quirked a brow from her; the temperature in the room meant there had to be some sort of air movement. Shakily she crawled over and sat on her knees as she began to shift the boxes aside one by one; quietly, carefully, unsure of just how thick the walls in this place were. In the silence she tried to keep she couldn't help but muse over how ridiculous this entire situation was. This felt like some B-rated action flick that wouldn't make it into theaters; here she was, inexperienced with the situation thrust upon her and all she had to go on was quick thinking based on too many movies and even more hope. Thankfully, as she moved the last box aside, she found the exact thing she prayed for - a vent and to make it better she knew she could fit inside there.

Patting herself down Tessa found a single quarter in her pocket and let out a grateful breath she wasn't aware she had been holding - for once her luck rolled a natural twenty, she could cry - but someone was already on that before she could even make a sound.

An uproar of screaming came from down the hallway and it stilled her; a raw wave of fear washing over her as she listened to the sound of panic, and as it came closer, the sound of bodies hitting the floor. Her hands shook, the sound of gunfire causing her to flinch. Something bad was happening and she suspected if it was willing to boldly attack this gang they wouldn't have any qualms with killing her should they come looking for possible survivors. Shakily she turned back to her only escape and began unscrewing the vent as quickly and quietly as she could... yet the sounds just got worse out there. It sounded like furniture was being thrown, breaking, the damage being on the extreme side and she had to assume maybe it was a rival group storming the place - but things seemed too quiet to be another gang.

Three screws out of the way, she carefully positioned the vent to not be a noisy pest as she worked the last one. One small creak followed by another and she found the job to be done. Hope sparked in her; simultaneously she saw the metal vent no longer supported and falling to the ground and as fast as she went to catch it she was still too slow. The noise it made wasn't terribly loud, and she would have been glad for that if she hadn't suddenly noticed how quiet the building was. Her heart skipped a beat as she listened, thinking she heard the faintest of noises as she tilted her head to look towards the door behind her. Tessa blinked and in a moment the door was broken open and there stood a man, clad in regular gym clothing that was stained in a vast amount of blood. He wore a faint smile on his face, eyes nearly closed and as the moment progressed she watched as they widened a single fraction to focus directly on her bloody and bruised form.

A moment stretched as she lifted her head, eyes meeting his own as she painfully swallowed the fear that had begun building in her throat. Something was very wrong with this man; danger screamed at her and not for the obvious evidence he bore. She could feel something inside her screaming to escape this place, to run away right now from _him_ , not the situation anymore. Her brows creased as she let loose a shaky breath, "Thank you." The words came out in a sad, barely coherent croak but she couldn't stop them. Some part of her **needed** to be relieved so that the overwhelming sense of danger could fill every nook and cranny in her body.

That was it, that was all it took for the moment to end. They both moved; she threw herself forward into the vent and he took a lengthy step forward as he ran to her position. Tessa slid through the dust and cob webs until she found the vertical drop; her head tilted to look over her shoulder and saw his face peering into the dark tunnel she was escaping through. The stare was held for another second until she saw him lift his arm inside after her - which seemed foolish, he was far too large to come in after her with that build. Tessa was proven wrong, so very wrong when she saw his arm split and morph into a tendril that formed a sharp blade at its end; her eyes widened, having never seen something so horrifying. Sure she read a lot of such things, had plenty of body horror-based artwork but this was beyond any of that - there was no prepping for witnessing what he was doing.

Without a word he controlled that limb forward after her and she rocketed herself down the ventilation shaft to escape his attack. The feeling of her leg splitting open caused a cry to leave her just as she hit the bottom; not waiting to see if this thing could reach her she kicked against the surface and pushed herself away from the opening. Desperately she moved through the darkness, trying to become as quiet as she could as she crawled and crawled through the metal until she needed to stop. The pain in her bleeding leg was intense; the sound of sirens and voices loud as she assumed the police had come onto the scene. She didn't trust any of them if only because she didn't want to be linked to the events that transpired here. She didn't want that thing that wore a man's face to find her or other members to come hunting her down. Tessa suppressed the sob that wanted to escape her and continued crawling for another fifteen minutes until she found a way outside.

Hands cut and bleeding too, she finally was able to exit onto the pavement under the afternoon sun. Without waiting she pulled herself up and limped away from the scene before she could bleed anymore over the place, praying her lack of a known record would prevent them from coming after her. She just wanted her bed, she just wanted to feel safe and now she couldn't even have that - she didn't have money to move again, she had to stay at her place and deal with whatever may come knocking and the suspense, that what if scared the absolute shit out of her.

* * *

The moment the door to her bathroom closed she finally broke down; heaving air into her lungs as choked sobs left her shaking form. Tessa limped to the bathtub and turned the knobs, running the water as she grabbed hold of the medical kit and placed it on the lid of the toilet. Stripping down she climbed in, cleaning off the experience she had just gone through - watching the water change colors. Unable to look at it she kicked the small metal lever, draining the tub out only to move it back into place so she could refill it with something less grimy. Shuddering breaths raked through her body as she worked to calm down from her twenty-four hour trip. The pain from her beating radiated without her self-preservation guiding her.

For a time she soaked, she worked to accept reality and what had happened - finding she didn't have any solutions to move forward left her in an uncomfortable position but she would make do, she'd have to. Her main concern was whatever slaughtered twenty-two grown men was likely still out there and knew her face, beat up as it may be. Whatever may come from that she couldn't control until it was upon her, she assumed, which didn't sit well with her and it only sparked further disdain towards her father because it felt far too similar to that situation.

Rubbing her hands over her face she drained the tub once more and began tending to the injuries at hand; her leg the priority as she disinfected it and began closing it up to the best of her ability. The risk of going to the hospital and someone taking notice of the timing and level of injury wasn't something she was willing to tempt. Instead she butterfly shut her wound, taped some gauze over it and then proceed to wrap her calf in a sturdy bandage that would keep it still until the injury closed itself well enough. Stitches may have been necessary but she didn't trust the tremble in her hands to give it a go, especially considering it would have been her first time attempting such.

By the time she finally reached her bed she had with her all the bags of frozen vegetables she owned and spread them to various points of her body trying to find relief - even if it meant dealing with an irritatingly cold face. She had mixed a large amount of Vitamin C to help get a head start on reducing her bruising and could only help the cold treatment would aid her in looking less like a mess of a person. Time spent laying passed and soon she found herself half asleep, adrift in darkness that spiraled into colors - flashing lights, rainbow-like spots dancing in an unpredictable pattern as her eyelids twitched and her body tried to find peace in resting. Jolting awake uncomfortably but never quite fully stirring her back to life; each impulsive jerk back to the waking world grew weaker until finally she stilled - exhaled a slow, warm breath and was able to fall into a much needed sleep.

* * *

 _Mm. I forgot that this site keeps docs for a certain amount of time and lost all my progress on my other stories I've been working on. So I've taken up writing off site and copying and pasting because boy, did that hit my motivation for way too long. So here's this next chapter, ten years later. I'm going to try and work on updating the other stories soon too. I really like the new Architect first chapter and now it's gone and every draft I've tried to write since I lost it has been rubbish. Thankfully this one did better than the original draft, so I can't complain about that._

 _Feel free to R &R. A recent follow to this thing encouraged me to give rewriting the lost chapter a go, so thank you. I'll update soon. Feel free to message for chats, hope you are all doing well. 3_


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